Page 126 of That Reunited Feeling

I can’t get out any words, but I can get out of my chair.

As I stand, he lets go of my hand, brushes the tears from my cheeks with his warm fingers, and holds onto my face as he looks through my eyes and deep into my soul. “I’ve always thought I don’t belong anywhere. But you’ve taught me that belonging isn’t about geography. Where I belong is withyou. Wherever that is—London, Blythewell, LA, or fucking Jupiter.” He squeezes my face. “Youare where I belong.”

I should have a good response. I should have all the words, just like he had. I canfeelall the words. But they’re swimming in space and refusing to arrange themselves into a sensible sentence-like order. All I can manage is, “You are where I belong too.”

“I love you, Hannah. But I wish there was a word that meant more than that. Because it feels like more than that. It feels like more than love. But love is the only word I have. So, I love you.”

Throwing my arms around his neck, I bury myself in the strength and the scent of my first love, my one love, the love of my life and of my world and of my everything. “I love you too.”

He holds me tight against him, like if we ever let go of each other again the world might spin off its axis.

I squeeze my eyes shut while my heart thuds in my ears. But the clicking of the office door being opened cuts through.

I open my eyes to see Axel’s face peek around it. “Everything okay out here?”

“Never better,” Tom says into my neck.

I barely manage to focus on Axel through my watery eyes. “And I quit.”

37

Five months later

TOM

Hannah’s rich, clear voice rings in my ears as I push on the door to the recording studio control room and hold it open for Dylan.

Trev, the producer, stops the playback. “Sounding great,” he says into the intercom to Hannah, who’s on the other side of the glass.

Her face lights up with the beaming smile that I love with all my heart, as she waves at me and Dylan.

“Looks like it’s your quittin’ time,” Trev says to her.

“We can wait if you need to do more,” I tell him.

“I don’t mind waiting.” Dylan hops up on the chair next to Trev.

Trev winks at me behind his back.

Dylan has become quite the student of the mixing desk. His obsession with learning what every fader and knob doeshas virtually overtakenOverlord Hybrids. I’ve set up a digital version on a tablet for him to tinker with at home.

“Home” being the rented beachfront house in Santa Monica we’ve been staying in for the four months since I moved over full time. Living here is much nicer than I’d expected. Of course, I’d live in a landfill if I got to wake up next to Hannah every morning. But there is something to be said for watching the ocean as you drink your morning coffee in bed. And Dylan is certainly in his element. Being at the beach is especially great while he’s home for the summer, but it’s really too far from his school.

We wanted to keep him where he was, at the one near Rachel’s house in the Hollywood Hills, so that is a bit of a trek. And it’s where his good friends live. I just picked him up from one of their houses before we headed here to collect his mom—the love of my life—from my old pal’s recording studio nearby.

“Nope, it’s okay. We’re done,” Trev says. He presses the intercom to Hannah. “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow. Get out of here and spend the evening with your beautiful family.”

My heart swells and glows with his use of the word “family.” I dofeellike we’re a family, but to know that’s how people see us warms my heart.

“Hey.” Hannah appears through the studio door. She gives me a quick peck on the lips and Dylan on the head. “Let’s go home.”

“Actually, we’re not going straight back.” My stomach flips. “We need to stop off somewhere on the way.”

And it had better go well.

“Are we visiting Rachel?” Hannah asks as we head farther into the hills.

“Nope.”

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